


The (Not So Successful) Escape

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fade to Black, Fluff, Hangover, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night of heavy drinking, Sherlock and Molly wake up in his bed together, nearly naked. But before anything fun can happen, they hit an unexpected snag as John comes back with a client, blocking Molly’s easiest way out of Baker Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The (Not So Successful) Escape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NSquared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSquared/gifts).



> And I got this in right under the wire of my self-imposed deadline (by, like, eleven minutes)! ::throws confetti:: **Nsquared** left me a great prompt that said _Sherlolly: we were snuggling in our underwear when my roommate came home early from vacation now you have to try and sneak down the fire escape while i distract them with really terrible small talk Molly is the one who has to sneak out?_ While it's not _quite_ accurately answered (she doesn't actually ggo out the fire escape), I think I managed to get everything else. So, anyway, I hope all of you like it!

Whiskey, he decided, was his worst enemy.

His head was pounding, his mouth felt like it was filled with dried cotton, and the room was just too God awfully bright. He groaned and reached for the other pillow on his bed to put it over his head, only to find it was occupied.

“C’mon, don’t pull,” Molly murmured. “My head is throbbing.”

He stared at her, his eyes narrowed slightly against the bright light streaming in from his window. Yes, it was definitely Molly next to him, and based on the fact she’d managed to push the quilt rather far down he could see she was in a rather lacy white balconette bra and matching lace knickers. It was in that moment he realized his own clothing situation was quite scarce, as he was only in his pants. “Molly,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?” she said sleepily, her arse hitting _just_ the right part of his anatomy to cause a reaction when she burrowed more into him. As he felt himself begin to stir slightly he swore he heard her begin to purr slightly in contentment. That was quite interesting. But now was not the time to think about that.

If he could think at all, because between the throbbing in his head and the effect a nearly naked Molly being that close to a nearly naked him was having on him, his usually clear mind was a mess.

“How much did we drink last night?” he asked, his lips near her ear.

“Half a bottle, most of a bottle, not sure,” she said. “Large bottle of whiskey, though.” She moved her feet slightly, playing with his. “You were sad. You asked me to come over to talk, and you were drinking, and I said fuck all and joined you. And I don’t remember much else.”

“I don’t either,” he said. After a moment he hesitantly put a hand on her waist. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to stop her movement or worse, focus her movements on something specific. He wasn’t sure what he wanted with her, what she wanted from him. “What do you remember?”

“Like I said, not much,” she said, starting to pull away from him. “I think there was kissing? I’ve thought about kissing you sometimes, so I don’t know what were thoughts and what actually happened.”

“We’re in my bed in our underwear,” he pointed out, hesitantly sliding his hand to her abdomen, his fingers skirting the very top edge of her knickers as he did.

She froze for a moment, then went back to her position curled up against him. “So I’m thinking the kissing really happened, then,” she said quietly.

“Considering the reaction I seem to be having I’m fairly sure it did,” he replied.

“But haven’t you had it with other women?” she asked hesitantly.

“I met with Irene Adler naked and although I was slightly befuddled she did not get any signs of physical arousal from me,” he said before hesitantly dropping a kiss on her shoulder. Molly shivered at the contact. “But I seem to be reacting to you quite fiercely.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said, wriggling just slightly. He groaned at that. “Maybe we should do something about that.”

“Maybe we should,” he said. He pulled away this time and she rolled over onto her back while he leaned on his side, hovering over her just slightly. He leaned in to kiss her when he heard the front door bang open and his eyes grew wide. “Was John here?” he asked.

“I don’t remember,” she said with a frown, her voice low. “I think he was supposed to be out of town with his sister. I think that’s why you wanted me over? You wanted company.”

“Sherlock?” John called out. “We have a client. Pulled me away from my family business. I reckon this is a seven.”

“Damn,” Sherlock muttered. He looked down at Molly. “There’s no way you can leave through the front door.”

“You want me to do what, then?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Hide out here until your client and John leaves? I have plans today. If I can’t spend the day in bed with you I’m not rescheduling them.”

“Fire escape, then,” he said.

“Where are my clothes?” she asked, pushing him up slightly.

He frowned at that. “Good question.” He sat up more fully and looked around his bedroom. The act of sitting upright made him feel physically ill. This was not going to be a pleasant day, he realized. “Your trousers are by the closet door, your shirt is on my desk chair, one of your shoes is by the end of the bed…I don’t see the other one.”

“It’s under your nightstand,” she said, leaning over and looking down. She slowly got out of bed and he took a moment to fully appreciate the view. There wasn’t much time to savor it, though, because he needed to get a pair of pyjamas on quickly, and that was _after_ he took care of the rather obvious problem he currently had. 

“Sherlock?” There was a knock at the door. “Are you ill?”

“No, just…groggy,” he said, looking over at Molly, who looked back with wide eyes. “Long night, going over old cases. _Cold_ cases. For Lestrade.”

“Anything interesting?” John asked as Molly went and picked up her trousers.

“No, nothing interesting. Nothing worth giving any more time to.” He watched her get dressed and felt more of a stirring in his loins. He’d much rather watch her get undressed at this point, but the wriggling of her arse to get the trousers on was rather hypnotizing, brief as it was. “Mesmerizing,” he said.

“Pardon?” John asked as Molly looked at him sharply.

“I said, it’s a mess, and I’m rising to the challenge,” he said weakly. “Of weeding out cases with all the dead ends.” He tore his attention away from Molly. “Go start coffee. I’m going to need some. Very strong coffee.”

“All right. Anything else?”

“Aspirin. Neighbors were very loud last night.” He glanced back over at Molly, unable to help it, watching her pick up her blouse and put it on. “Very distracting.”

“All right. Maybe some dry toast and a glass of water, too?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, fine,” he said, staring at Molly. If it was this tantalizing watching her get dressed he wondered if he’d enjoyed watching her get undressed just as much. He hoped he had. “And tell the client to sit and wait while I make use of the facilities.”

“Fine. Tell Molly it’s more than fine if she goes out the front door, by the way. The client’s blind. He won’t be able to tell.”

Molly froze as Sherlock turned and stared at the door. “How in the bloody hell did you know I was here?” she asked, her jaw hanging down.

John chuckled. “I recognized your cherry print jumper out on the back of the chair, and your handbag is on the table. You might need those before you go home. Bit chilly out there. Unless you want to just stay in Sherlock’s room. I doubt this client will stay long.”

Sherlock turned back to her, watching as she turned bright red, and then turned back to the door. “John?”

“Yes?” he asked.

“Coffee for two, and tell the client he’s in for a wait. I’m otherwise occupied,” he said, getting up and going over to Molly.

“Don’t be too long or too loud, then,” John said, and after a moment his footsteps could be heard moving away from the door.

“Oh my God,” Molly said quietly.

“Look on the bright side,” Sherlock said, standing in front of her and tipping her chin up.

“ _What_ bright side?” she asked curiously.

He gently caressed her face. “At least now you don’t need to slink out of here on the fire escape. Provided you can actually walk on your own two feet tomorrow morning, you can easily go and catch a cab.”

A slow, sensual smile spread on her face as she caught the meaning behind his words. “Is that a promise, Sherlock?”

“It is,” he said, leaning in. “I will do my best to make sure it is very hard for you to walk out of here, though.”

“Mmm,” she said with a nod. “And I suppose your client can wait?”

“To hell with the client,” he said as he leaned in and kissed her. She kissed him back eagerly, pressing against him, and he had to reconsider his opinion from when he woke up this morning: whiskey wasn’t his worst enemy.

Whiskey could quite possibly be his very best friend.


End file.
